


The Seasons are A Changeling

by FalseProphet (Batmanthegroomer)



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9222161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanthegroomer/pseuds/FalseProphet
Summary: The trolls are starting to act… weird. Weirder than normal. It’s starting to make Jim worried, especially since he’s been forbidden from going to Troll Market until things are ‘back to normal’. Only problem is nobody will tell Jim what’s wrong, since apparently he would have known if he’d only read that book…Meanwhile Strickler puts things into motion to reinforce his Changeling army.(Takes place after Part One, Episode 20 "Where's My Mind")





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly PG-13, highly explicit chapters will be marked as such and will not be required to get the full effect of the fic

Sunset in Arcadia was a slow process. It seemed like the sun wanted to linger just a little longer here than anywhere else. Or, maybe, it just felt that way because some of Jim's best friends were forced to wait until the sun had made up it's mind to visit.

Toby stood next to Draal in the doorway out to Jim's backyard. The former had his head pressed to the doorjamb and was moaning like he was about to be ill. Draal tilted his head just slightly and narrowed his eyes.

"If you're going to be sick, do it someplace else." 

"What? Sick! Perish the thought. I'm just dying a slow death waiting for the sun to go down so this awesome weekend can get started!" Toby bellowed, jumping out into the fading sun and pumping his fists into the air. He felt more than heard Draal sigh behind him.

"AAARRRGGHH has these so called 'sleep overs' with you every night. I still fail to see how this weekend is cause for such excitement." Draal took a few careful steps onto the lawn.

"You really are brawn over brains, huh?"

"What?" Draal's voice was short, his nostrils flared.

"Easy big guy. What I me~an is; think about it for two seconds. Jim's mom is gone all weekend. All weekend! She told him I could stay over--which obviously extends to all you guys--so that means we get a complete guys' weekend alone with a full house to call our own!"

"I fail to see how extending and invitation to you, Tobias, included us." Blinky--still unsettlingly human--groaned as he and AAARRRGGHH popped up over the fence. 

"And who said anything about this being a guys' only event?" 

Claire smirked as she and Jim rounded on the backyard from the front gate. 

"Draal! What happened to your hand?" Claire hissed in slight distress as she loped towards the large troll. AAARRRGGHH joined them to inspect the prosthetic as Blinky moved to sit nearby.

"The knuckles locked up." Draal offered, almost sheepishly. 

"So you... decided to crush the whole thing?" Claire ran her hands over the broken, flattened pieces. 

"Of course not! I attempted to... un-lock them." 

"By punching a hole in the floor." Jim reminded with a wag of his finger. He stumbled as Toby grabbed his shoulder.

"Jim, Jimbo, buddy, pal. A word?"

"Inexplicable." Jim provided with a grin.

"Cute. That's cute. Don't be cute." Toby pulled Jim back into the shadow of the house. "You invite Claire!"

"Uhm, yes?" Jim shrugged. "She's part of the team, Tobs. It'd be rude not to invite her. Plus, you guys have fun hanging out and you can't deny it."

"True as that may be, I have two things to say. One--Inviting Claire is pretty much like inviting Not-Enrique and he's really going to ruin this weekend. Two--I don't mind having Claire around, really I don't, but you couldn't have given us guys like... one day without bringing in the barrette brigade?"

"Barette brigade?" Jim echoed, frowning at Tobias' incredulous expression. "Oh c'mon Tobs. Lighten up. All three of us put our lives on the line more often than any high schooler should be required to, we all deserve this weekend. Nice, quiet, filled with junk food and bad movies instead of running for our lives, pain, panic and death."

"And pixies."

"And pixies."

Tobias sighed in defeat, tilting his head towards Jim as the latter put an arm over Tobias' shoulders.

"Don't worry about Not-Enrique. Claire's parents aren't going out of town so he's going to be stuck playing baby all weekend."

"Yeah, you know, for people supposed to be great parents they certainly lose track of their infant a lot, huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE

Not-Enrique's ears twitched uncontrollably with each strike of the metronome. As the silence in Strickler's office stretched, so did the effect of the sound. Ear twitching turned into flinching, which turned into shuddering which turned into the sensation of a drill slowly boring into his temple which--

"Aaaah all right!" Not-Enrique shrieked, covering his ears and kicking wildly into the air as he flopped onto his back on Strickler's desk. "All right, I'll talk! Just turn that damned thing off!"

"Hmm? Oh." Strickler turned from his hidden conclave with a smile of nonchalance. "You mean the metronome? I wasn't aware it bothered you. I find the repetition quite soothing."

"Yeah, well, we all know you's a kook." Not-Enrique drove a finger into his ear and wiggled it viciously to remove the echo still ringing around.

Strickler smiled wanly as he turned the machine off. He picked it up and turned to lean the small of his back against the desk. His eyes drifted lazily to Not-Enrique.

"Well then, my friend, speak."

"Y'know, with all due respect, boss, why're you still insistin' on being on Jim's radar? I mean... Bular's out of the picture. You're kinda a free man now, ain't'cha?"

"You're young yet, so I'll let that slide." Strickler growled, glancing down at the metronome in his hands. He relaxed his hold on the glamour over himself, watching soft pink hands return to clawed green fists. 

"I... don't follow?"

"We're Changelings, the 'impure', half-breeds, those 'between worlds'. There are none quite as out of place as us. We adapt to survive in the Darklands or Earth, as our needs permit, but neither place is home." Strickler set the metronome down, turning slowly back to Not-Enrique. "We are not free." He hissed, stalking forward. "We have never been free. We merely experience a temporary break in our shackles, a glint of space outside our bars."

Not-Enrique slowly crawled backwards--more like scooted, quite ungracefully--as Strickler moved closer.

"The trolls, the gum gums, even the humans hold domain over us. We hide and we plot and we plan only to be pushed aside for the machinations of those deemed more worthy than us. Well, no more." Stickler slammed his hands down on his desk, sneering at the smaller changeling. "With Angor Rot in my control I am going to bring about the freedom of our kind. No longer will we be forced to hide, to kneel, to serve. No. At long last these wretched realms will know changeling command, and we will do then what no soul has ever done."

"Wh-what's that?" Not-Enrique croaked.

"We will change them." Strickler bent over the desk and narrowed glowing eyes at the cowering Not-Enrique. "Now, speak."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE

"Oh no, oh no, oh no! No! You've got to be kidding me!" Tobias yowled, falling backwards onto the couch as Claire took a bow. 

"Scoreboard don't lie, big guy." Claire ryhmed triumphantly, holding out her hand. "The remote, please."

"This is... unfair."

"Tobs, best three of five, man. She's kicked your butt, solidly." Jim almost sounded tired from his spot on the couch. He had been thoroughly enjoying the video game match--maybe moreso thoroughly enjoying how good Claire was at a game she'd never even heard of--but his body had become accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle. Relaxing, being suddenly not 'on alert', was having an effect on him not unlike the way Claire's mom's driving put Enrique to sleep. Or, used to put Enrique to sleep.

Good mood gone in a flash, Jim stretched his arms over his head. He started towards the kitchen.

"You guys want anything while I'm up?"

"Running low on soda, Jimbo!" 

Jim fought back a yawn as he opened the fridge and sought out the neon beverage. His mother had reluctantly stocked up on it for the weekend, under pressure from both boys that it was 'not really a good weekend without at least one soda'. Luckily for both Tobias's waistline and Jim's good eating habits, Draal had been the one to drink most of it. 

Jim pulled his head back from the fridge as he heard a displeased grumble from behind him. Blinky was coming up from the basement, three new books in his hands. 

"You ok, Blinky? You've been... quiet and reclusive all night?" Jim tried to pour the soda as nonchalantly as possible. Blinky had also been rather irritable and Jim was in no mood for another lecture. He wanted to just chalk it up to AAARRRGGHH's strange behavior and Blinky's human predicament, but something didn't add up.

"Oh, yes, quite fine." Blinky responded with a decided lack-of-luster. "Just, having trouble finding something to hold my attention."

Before Jim could persue the lead, the whole house seemed to jump into the air with a deafening thud from the backyard. Heart thudding in his ears, hand burning to grab the medallion in his pocket, Jim was outside in half a second.

He came to a stop just off the back step as AAARRRGGHH held out a hand to help Draal up. The former was looking quite disgruntled from his undignified position. AAARRRGGHH didn't seem as concerned, both trolls avoiding direct eye contact.

"What was that!?" Claire gasped as she and Tobias darted outside with Jim.

"I won." AAARRRGGHH said calmly.

"Pah!" Draal growled. "You cheated."

"I did not!" 

"Woah, guys, woah." Jim took a few steps forward, holding his hands out. "Calm down. Why don't you come inside for a bit, watch a movie? You've been going at it since sundown. Aren't you guys tired of sparring?" 

"No." The trolls answered in unison, though it was more a question from Draal and a declaration from AAARRRGGHH.

"Oh, leave them be. It's a good way to let off steam. If that's how they want to get through this time of the year, I say let them. Far less disasterous than it could be." Blinky grumbled from inside, two lonely arms crossed over his chest.

"'This time of the year'?" Jim echoed back, looking from one troll to the next. AAARRRGGHH and Draal looked at each other, as if wondering why they other had not explained this situation. Blinky sighed heavily.

"You still have not read the book. Honestly, at this point I would think it had sold the idea itself! Look at how much it has benefitted Claire. You gave it a good start when you fought Draal, and you won because of it. Your continued dismissal of it is... is..." Blinky's words failed him. He threw his arms into the air with a grunt and returned inside.

Jim frowned at Tobias, who looked equally as confused. As the boys turned to Claire they found her with bright red cheeks, staring down. 

"Claire?" 

"I uh, I think I'm gonna head home for tonight." She said with a smile, a mischeif of some kind lingering behind her eyes. "I'll see you guys in the morning, ok?"

"Uh, sure." Jim fretted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Bye, Claire! I look forward to beating your high score tomorrow!"

"As if, Tobs!"

Jim returned his attentiont to AAARRRGGHH and Draal. Both trolls seemed to be occupied; AAARRRGGHH with a blade of grass and Draal with his busted arm.

"Nobody's going to explain?"

"No." The trolls said, once agian in unison. They glanced at each other.

"Seriously?" Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. I'll go find the book and spend my weekend reading." He scrunched his face in disgust at the idea. "Just try not to knock over the house with the sparring guys, ok? Just because it's unlikely you'll be noticed doesn't mean you should just... let loose."

"Yeah. I mean can't you just head back down to the market to--"

"No!" AAARRRGGHH said, alone, quickly and fearfully. Draal too seemed incredibly put out by the idea. 

"Market is... a bad idea." AAARRRGGHH attempted to clarify. 

"This time of year is--complicated, Trollhunter." Draal said with a shrug. "Some trolls revel in it but others, well, we'll just make sure we don't knock over the house."

"Uhh, yeah, thanks."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE

"--I swear they're going to kill each other. And Blinky still won't tell me what's up!" Jim complained as he swapped books out from his locker. 

"AAARRRGGHH's been acting even stranger, too. He usually sleeps like a rock but lately all I have to do is breathe too hard and he wakes up. He doesn't want to be at the house, but he doesn't want to be at the market. He's just one big... grumpy... troll!"

"I mean, I understand that Blinky wants me to read the book. It's all he talks about and I guess, I mean I probably should, but he keeps refusing to answer my questions. This attitude thing seems to be really messing them all up and now we can't go to the market? I can't help but feel like this is one of those instances where Blinky should just, yanno, fill me in?"

"You didn't just read the book like he said?" Claire sighed, shaking her head as she approached the boys. 

"Hey Claire." Tobias greeted. 

"No." Jim pressed his forehead to his cool locker. "I hate reading, Claire. I mean, it's marginally more fun to read books that aren't about humans and math but, it still feels like homework. I put my life on the line, physically, shouldn't I be exempt from studying?"

Claire fixed Jim with a look that clearly stated she did not approve of that line of thought. She shook her head.

"Sometimes, Jim, I really don't understand you. Tobias said you used to talk all the time about wanting adventure and here it is, fallen in your lap, and you're griping about having to read?"

"Well yeah. I hate reading. Just because I'm the Trollhunter doesn't mean I suddenly like reading." Jim poked Claire in the shoulder. "What if, in order to keep using that uh--that staff, you had to eat raw eggs every day?"

"Eww! What?" Claire wrinkled her nose.

"See? Everybody has their limits."

"I'd eat raw eggs to keep a staff like that," Tobias interrupted, drawing the gazes of his companions, "just saying."

"You read the book, Claire, why can't you just tell us?"

"Because." Claire stuttered, cheeks going red. "Blinky told me not to."

"What? No he didn't. He barely said a word to any of us Friday night, and you were only over a few hours on Saturday. When did he tell you?"

"He just--he did. You're not all seeing, Jim. Blinky and I do things when you're not around."

"Ple~ase, Claire?" Tobias begged, fluttering his eye lashes. "You can have one of nana's home made chocolate chip co~okies?"

"Tempting, but no." Claire took a step back. "You don't even have to read the whole book for this one, Jim. Look through the index and use your brain instead of your fists. You'll figure it out."

"Ugh, Claire!" Jim's body sagged in defeat. "What if I promise to read the book if you tell me?"

The boys both perked a little as Claire tapped at her chin, seeming to think on this offer. Jim lifted his eyebrows as she lowered her hand.

"No."

The boys threw their heads back.

"Claire!"

"No. Oh, and also, no." Claire turned and walked into the school, pausing to toss one more, considerate, 'no', over her shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE

"We are trying, sir, but... it's difficult." The stout purple changeling kept her head bowed, eyes averted, as Strickler paced in front of her. "We don't know where to look. We have rumors passed from changeling to changeling, but that's all! That's all!"

"I fail to see how Numora, in all her great ineptitude, was able to bring Balur a Fetch and yet you--with resources and money and a veritable army at your call--cannot even locate one!" Strickler spun to face the woman. His hands balled into fists, ears pinned and the ruffle of his cloak lifted like an agitated bird. 

He lifted his head with a sneer as the changeling before him dropped to her knees. He clicked his tongue along the back of his fangs as she clasped her hands together.

"Numora got lucky, that's all! We just need a little more time! Just a little!" 

Strickler's sneer grew and he lifted a foot. His intent was to kick the changeling over, but he decided against it at the last moment. His bare foot slapped down against the cement as he turned. He clasped his hands behind his back and squeezed hard.

"Disgusting." He spat, listening as the woman slowly moved to her feet. "Kneeling has become so ingrained in our memories, it's like a reflex."

"Wou-would you like me to stand?"

"I'd like you to find the Fetch!" Strickler spun back around. This time he reached out and grabbed both of the purple changeling's shoulders. She swallowed a yelp.

"Chuuga wunga." Chuckled a goblin from behind Strickler. "Chuu bruta mah wunga."

"Hmm." Strickler considered, pulling his hands away from the shaking changeling. He smoothed over the fur along her shoulders. 

"He's right. What you need is a little luck."

"Wunga! Wunga!" A chorus broke out among the goblins hiding in the shadows, tempo matched by the slapping of hands and feet against cement.

"And I know just where to get you some."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branching into some more mature content
> 
> Mention of sexual topics

"I'm telling you Jim, it'll work! It always works." Toby purred, nudging Jim in the side. The taller boy rolled his eyes, shifting his hold on the lunch tray so as not to lose his milk.

"Yeah but it feels like, I dunno, cheating."

"You're reading too much into it. It's not cheating if she's with-holding important information from the Trollhunter."

"She did read the book."

"With all that free time she has not saving the world, Jim. You've got enough on your plate, remember?" To emphasize Toby nudged Jim again, jostling the contents of his tray. Jim pulled away and narrowed his eyes.

"Ok, all right! Just... stop that. You're gonna make me lose my lunch." Jim turned away from his usual lunchroom path. He shook his head as Toby waggled his eyebrows.

Jim tried not to let the sweet chuckles of teenaged girls weaken his resolve. He scooted and nearly tripped through the rows of tightly packed girls and brightly colored backpacks. The giggling came to almost a complete stop as he turned and found himself face-to-face with his query.

"Uh, hi. Claire." 

"Hi, uh, Jim." Claire grinned, tucking a rare errant strand of hair behind her ear. "What... what are you doing here?" Claire gave a slight look to either side of her, to the completely full table of curious, wide-eyed girls. "Don't you usually eat lunch with Toby? All the way over there?"

"What? I mean yeah-yeah." Jim glanced across the cafeteria as Toby waved. "But I was uhm--I thought maybe you and I could, eat together?" 

"Oh? And why would she want to do that?" Darcy interrupted, narrowing her eyes.

"Because-uh-because we're working on a project together? That uhm... that ring thing, remember?"

"Ring... thin--Oh! Oh!" Claire stood up quickly and began gathering her things. "Right, the project. I forgot all about it. I'll catch up with you later, Darcy." 

Jim frowned, rounding the table to walk next to Claire. He felt guilty, but the butterflies she still gave him quickly ate away at the darker feelings. He was smiling by the time they settled down at the only empty table in the cafeteria. It was usually reserved for the kids in detention, but there had been an odd string of well behaved kids recently--since the 'chemical leak' anyway.

"So, what? What's going on? Did you guys come up with something?"

"Uh, not-not exactly." Jim poked at his green beans. He felt Claire studying him and did his best not to look at her.

"I just--I wanted to say I'm still really impressed with how much you do." Jim started lamely. "I mean, you're still making really good grades, you find time to be a great big sister, you're still involved with the drama club, you're helping me and Toby and you read those books. I mean--Just--wow."

"Aahh, ok. I get it." Claire crossed her arms over her chest.

"G-get what?"

"You're still trying to get information out of me, aren't you?"

"No!" Jim turned to meet Claire's eyes, big mistake. "N-no!"

"Jim!"

"Ok, yes. Bu-but it's not like that! Look, I'm not a troll so there's a lot about this whole Trollhunter thing that I can't do. I mean I've got Blinky and AAARRRGGHH feeding me current events, Toby's there to help back me up, Draal's been crucial to my training, and you--you're like a walking dictionary now!"

"Is this speech supposed to help your case?" Claire growled. Jim threw his hands up in defense.

"What I meant was! What I mean was, I don't have time to read all that stuff, Claire. Face it, I'd be screwed in school without the Trollhunter side gig. But when you add saving the world to the regular pressures of being a sixteen year-old boy and my mom's only family, that doesn't leave me a lot of time for anything. Remember the play?"

Claire frowned as she looked down at her lunch. She watched Jim's hand slowly creep over and grab her's uncertainly.

"I haven't even had time to make lunches for myself. I hate school lunch. I'm not sure where else I can find free time, Claire. I'm not sure what else I can cut out. I know it seems like I'm just making excuses, and maybe that's part of it, but really I just can't imagine a scenario where I can read those books and keep up everything else."

Claire chewed on her bottom lip as Jim rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. 

"You said the other night you wanted to help more, well, here's how."

"Ugh." Claire groaned, pulling her hand away with a sigh. "Why do you have to be so right? It's infuriating." She tried to ignore Jim's smile from next to her. She couldn't, and just imagining how his whole body seemed to lighten when he smiled made her grin.

"Ok, you win. What do you want to know?"

"What's all this 'this time of year' business? It's got all the trolls acting nuts. Why can't I go into troll market? And why in heck is Blinky being so grumpy about the whole thing?"

Claire fixed Jim with an incredulous look. She leaned her chin onto her hand and shook her head slightly.

"That's what this is all about? And here I thought maybe you were actually taking this ring issue seriously." She paused for a moment, watching Jim watch her expectantly. "It's mating season, Jim. For the trolls. You know how animals have certain times of the year where they breed? So do trolls. It's mostly an outdated necessity but it still happens. It just makes them all a little... irritable."

"M-mating season?" Jim parroted. His cheeks pinked. 

"There something wrong with that?" Claire pressed, grinning. Boys were so immature.

"No. I guess I just... everyone made it seem so serious and I never thought--" Jim shuddered, sticking his tongue out for the briefest of seconds.

"Well, what did you think happened with trolls? I mean, that they just popped out of the ground?" Claire laughed as Jim gave her a look which clearly indicated he had thought just that. "Jim, the girls have breasts!" Claire's laughter increased tenfold as Jim flinched and looked away, grumbling to himself. 

"Isn't your mother a doctor? How did you get through Sex Ed, Jim Lake Jr?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains possible triggers
> 
> Sexual innuendos  
> Slight sexual content  
> An incredibly tasteless/off color joke in regard to dubious consent

"So you're just leavin' this all in my hands? No help at all?" Not-Enrique hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. He did a double take at Strickler's desk and the fully articulated gnome skeleton he'd failed to notice during all his previous visits.

"Yes." Strickler growled, word barely more than a noise. He was flipping furiously through the pages of an old book. The headache throbbing behind his eyes and down his neck made it next to impossible to concentrate. The words all blurred together and letters seemed to rearrange before his eyes.

"That's a lot! That's--that's too much!" Not-Enrique yowled, rolling the skeleton around in his hands. "I mean I make time for these little visits 'cause I enjoy our little chats, boss, but you're askin' for a blimey miracle." He lifted the gnome to pick between his teeth. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I?" Strickler hissed, slamming the book shut. "Far be it from me to give commands to my men. Far be it for me to ask that you honor your deal with Gunmar and do as instructed!"

"Gunmar? Ha!" Not-Enrique waved the gnome at the other Changeling. "This ain't got nothin' to do with him. You said it yourself, buncha times. The only thing we Changelings are required to do now is lay low until new orders come through."

"These are your new orders!" Strickler shouted, rounding on Not-Enrique. He reached out to grab the younger creature and missed. He snarled like a beast as Not-Enrique leapt up onto a bookshelf.

"Hey, cool it big guy." Not-Enrique chuckled. "Don't get'chur'self all worked up. It'll just make your, heh heh, situation worse. Right?"

"Do not presume to know enough to joke, child." Strickler attempted to regain composure, running a hand over his fur collar. "I may be functioning at less than optimal status but I am still in control."

"Pssht. It don't seem that way from up here, old man. You're sweating like a snowcone in summer!"

"Listen here you little vermin," Strickler pointed up at Not-Enrique, his hand almost steady. "Numora and I worked hard to bring you through, it's not as if Gunmar is ever eager to let more of our kind through. Without us you'd still be stuck in the Darklands, whirring around in stasis like some cursed toddler--knowing too much but not enough. It's about time you repay the favor. Gunmar or no Gunmar, I am your commander. I am in charge. I am your elder, if-if nothing else." Strickler dropped his hand and rubbed at the back of his neck, wincing.

"Oh man, you look rough." Not-Enrique said as he climbed down. "I'll... see what I can do. It's not gonna be easy, I hope you know dat." He tilted his head to one side. "Is uh... is the matin' season really this bad?"

"Horrendous." Strickler dropped his arm and glanced down at Not-Enrique.

"You know, you still got dat ring, right?" The small Changeling laughed uproariously. Strickler narrowed his eyes.

"Tasteless."

"Eh, beggars can't be choosers. I'll see about gettin' inta troll market. What's this thing called again?"

"A coineanaich bonn."

"Got it. Coin and Arch Barn." 

"Coineanaich bonn!"

"Dat's what I said!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE

"So they're all just really, really..." Toby waved his hands in front of himself, looking for the right words, "grumpy?"

"That's one way to put it." Jim shook his head as he closed his locker. "Just when I thought this whole thing couldn't get any more ridiculous."

"So we just have to play troll matchmaker. I've seen some uh... attractive lady trolls in the market." Toby said, entirely unconvincingly. "How hard could it be? I mean, Draal practically sells himself. Right? Son of Kanjigar, helped stop Gunmar, he's a hero. AAARRRGGHH's good lookin', smart, sweet. I bet the ladies love him! And Blinky uh... Blinky..."

"Is human, remember?" 

"Well maybe we can find a lady who likes things soft and squishy?"

"Eww, Tobs, eww." Jim turned away from his companion, weaving his way through students eager to get home. He searched around in his backpack for the key to his vespa.

"So what we just--let our brothers in arms suffer?" Tobias said, swooning.

"Tobs, since when have you ever thought about sex?" Jim lifted his eyebrows.

"What! You wound me."

"Seriously. You nearly lost your mind the first time we set foot in Claire's room. You ate her lipstick. You're my best friend dude, but you're no Don Juan, and neither of us have ever..." Jim glanced around. "I mean, we're not like that. In the fifteen years I've known you I think I've only ever heard you talk about kissing twice." 

"Well yeah, but..."

"The trolls are adults. If they uh--if they want something, I'm sure they have ways to get it." Jim curled his lip back as the words tasted strange in his mouth. "After all we're in school all day, they've got plenty of time to..."

"Woo the fairer sex?"

Jim paused and glanced at Tobias worriedly. 

"Tobs--you think Claire's safe, right?"

"Huh? What do you mean? Your troll senses going off?!" Tobias turned around quickly, glancing around as if looking for an ambush.

"No I mean, Not-Enrique. You know how animals get kinda crazy during mating season? They fight each other and get really aggressive? So... I mean... you don't think he's stupid enough to try anything do you?"

"Jim, Not-Enrique's a baby."

"No, he's a Changeling." Jim hopped onto his vespa. "I dunno. Maybe I'm overthinking it. The whole thing just really weirds me out." He shuddered and pulled on his helmet. "Claire said it only lasts a few days. It'll be fine."


	9. VERY NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW NSFW NSFW
> 
> Smut featuring Angor Rot/Strickler
> 
> Explicit Content
> 
> Anal sex, glowy bits, troll anatomy and generally the kind of non fluffy/romantic sex you'd expect from two troll bad guys bumping uglies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You DO NOT have to read this chapter to get the full effect of the fic. 
> 
> Picture & illustration by my husband at the bottom!

Strickler stared at the inferna copula as he rolled it on the tip of his finger. He still could not wrap his mind around the strange warmth the ring provided. Enchantments and magic never had settled well with him. He ground his teeth together and slid the ring back down over his first knuckle.

He spun his chair as a chill in the room announced his visitor. A sinking sensation turned his stomach and he tried to keep it from his expression.

"How can you expect me to work," Angor Rot growled, eyes narrowed in the shadows of Strickler's office. "If you continue to summon me."

"Oh, I apologize. Did I ruin your plans for this evening?" Strickler sneered, steepling his hands in front of him. "I--" Strickler closed his mouth and glanced down at his desk.

"You, what?" Angor Rot asked after a moment of silence.

"I need your assistance, with... a problem." Strickler's face wrinkled as he shook his head and stood up.

"Is this a joke?" Angor Rot's voice rose. He stalked forward slowly, following Strickler back into his hidden enclave. His orange eyes rolled over a collection of seemingly meaningless artifacts. A strange scent rolled over his nostrils and he snorted, turning to glance at Strickler.

"Quiet for once." Angor let out a deep chuckle. "I like it."

"It seems like you're... taking your time with the boy." Strickler hissed, bathing the enclave in a green glow as he dropped his glamor. "Why?"

"I have my reasons." Angor purred, reaching up to draw a clawed finger down the shaft of a staff on the wall.

"You have your orders." Strickler emphasized, keeping his back to the assassin. His temples throbbed, his cloak seemed far too tight. This had been a stupid idea and he could not believe he had entertained it for as long as he had. 

"You may have the power to order me, impure," Angor Rot balled a hand into a fist, "but I do things my way."

"You're stalling." Strickler glanced over his shoulder at the troll. "Or you're afraid." 

Strickler's nostrils flared as Angor Rot began laughing. It was a deep sound like thunder; the book under Strickler's hand vibrated. He folded his hands behind his back and turned to face the taller troll. 

"It has been ages since I've been on a hunt." Angor clarified, moving slowly towards Strickler. "I am bound by a ring, forgive me for enjoying myself when I have the chance." 

Angor leaned closer, prepared for the ring to push him backwards. His eyes darted curiously to the binding in question as he was permitted to get quite close to the Changeling. He watched as Strickler's eyes widened and darted down to the ring. 

Strickler leaned away as the ring burned against his finger like a warning. He watched Angor's nostrils flare as the troll took in a breath; Strickler held his. The Changeling watched a curious expression follow Angor's silence. The troll reared back and stared hard at Strickler.

"What?" Strickler's voice was just above a whisper. "What?" He demanded as Angor chuckled. It was a sound Strickler was coming to despise. 

"That smell. That scent." Angor laughed, shaking his head. The laughing continued until Angor grabbed at his stomach.

Strickler crossed his arms over his chest. 

"I am so glad you're amused." Strickler's annoyance quickly turned to apprehension as Angor Rot's laughter stopped abruptly. The Changeling took a step back as the troll fixed him with angry orange eyes.

"You..." He started forward. "You didn't summon me here to chastise me." Angor balled his hands into fists. "You summoned me here to use me." The idea was foul even on undead lips. 

"Absurd!" Strickler took another step back and bumped into his desk. He gasped and glanced behind him.

"Leave it to an impure to think of the most wretched, disgusting--"

"Don't call me that!" Strickler shouted, balling his hands into fists. "You don't get to use that word! You're a foul undead, soulless thing and you are at my command!" Strickler stepped forward and shoved Angor Rot with both hands. "Kneel before your master!"

Angor felt the tremors in his legs until he was unable to disobey. He fell to his knees with a growl low in his chest. He curled his lip and bared his fangs as Strickler walked forward. The troll tilted his head just slightly to look up at the Changeling. 

Strickler tightened his fists until his arms shook. He glared down at Angor Rot, breathing heavily through the pain in his head. He met the troll's dark eyes and held them. Suddenly he saw himself--a young Changeling--forced to kneel at the side of a heartless master.

Angor tilted his head slightly as Strickler seemed to suffer a blow. The Changeling stumbled for a moment and then turned profile. The assassin studied the shorter man's posture carefully. He could see regret and struggle. Angor Rot could see a weakness, an opening.

Strickler rubbed at his neck and put his back to the assassin. He ran his thumb over the back of the ring and heard Angor move slowly to his feet. He tilted his head towards the troll. He pinned his ears and waved dismissively.

"It... doesn't matter. Get out of here and take care of the Trollhunter." Strickler carefully removed his cloak. He ran his fingers along the edge of a blade lovingly as he hung it over the back of his chair.

"Control doesn't come easily, does it... Changeling?" Angor taunted.

"I'm not in the mood for this; I told you to get out!"

"I can only imagine how distressed you must be." Angor continued stalking forward. "Not even in control of your own body." He took another step and pinned Strickler's back to his desk. "I can relate." Angor said flatly.

"I'm sure you can." Strickler growled, reaching up to push Angor Rot away.

"Things would be easier if you were dead."

"Did you just threaten me!" Strickler glared up at Angor Rot as the troll looked down to meet his eyes.

"Like me." Angor clarified. "Just imagine it. No longer a slave to your baser needs."

"A slave to a ring!" Strickler pulled his hands away from Angor Rot and placed them on the desk behind him for support. There was no room to move around the taller troll. 

"I can show you. I can take you to her." Angor glanced down and shifted to place one of his thighs between Strickler's.

"And why on earth would I--" Strickler gasped and stiffened as Angor pressed against him. The Changeling hissed and stared, wide-eyed, up at the troll.

"A fair trade. In exchange for my help you give the ring to me, and I will not attempt to take yours." Angor forced his face into a soft expression. He knew there were no real accounts of his bargain, only myth and legend. There would be no way for Strickler to know the truth.

"Free from," Angor paused and pressed harder into Strickler to produce a groan, "mortal coil, think of all you could accomplish."

"You're lying." Strickler said breathlessly, betrayed by nature and his own body. His groin began to throb in time with his head. Angor twisted his leg slightly and Strickler groaned. His arms moved from where they rested on the desk to grasp at Angor's biceps viciously.

"I've seen you r-react to things." Strickler growled. "Like memories, emotions p-physical stimuli." He ground his teeth as Angor Rot chuckled. "You're no more immune to this than I am!"

Angor continued chuckling. He felt Strickler move quickly and glanced down just in time to watch the Changeling rip the ring from his finger. Anger Rot's eyes zeroed in on the ring as Strickler lifted it and shoved it unceremoniously down as far as he could onto one of his backwards facing horns.

The onslaught was sudden. Light twirled down Strickler's horns and over the sparse carvings in his hide. The ring lit up like a beacon, starting a gold glow at the base of Angor Rot's horns. The assassin was powerless to stop the glow from traveling the expanse of his own body.

Strickler narrowed his eyes, panting. He was no expert on undead troll assassins, but he knew what the season did to the unmatched. He knew the tremors, he knew the smells, he knew the strange lack of concentration. He hadn't known Angor Rot long, but he'd watched him long enough.

Angor squeezed his eyes shut against the transference. The feelings and urges he'd been trying to keep down suddenly bubbled to the surface like lava through the cracks. His head throbbed, his body warmed and cooled all at once. Strickler's smell which had moments ago been offensive was now somewhat thrilling.

Strickler reached out to shove Angor Rot once more. The assassin was now clearly distracted and caught up in 'baser instincts'. The Changeling let out a shout as the taller troll caught his wrists. Orange eyes met orange eyes and both trolls silently vowed to never speak a word of what was about to transpire.

Angor Rot growled long and low as Strickler scrambled in front of him. The Changeling wriggled against the desk, reaching up to grab both of Angor's horns and gain leverage. The assassin leaned forward and pressed his palms onto the desk, trapping Strickler beneath him.

Strickler curled one leg around Angor's hip and pried the other one free to do the same. He wore the same sneer as his companion as he attempted to make himself at least somewhat comfortable on the desk. He grunted as Angor Rot reached out and put a very large hand across his chest and pushed.

"Stop that."

Angor lifted his lip higher as his hand was batted away. He shifted himself closer to the desk and jerked his hips forward. Both trolls groaned and shuddered. Angor's eyes rolled back at the foreign sensation. He felt Strickler shifting against him and opened his eyes.

Strickler pushed himself back into an almost seated position and slid his hands down low on Angor Rot's torso. Even with small and clawed hands he found himself struggling against the wraps holding up Angor's loin cloth. He tilted his head forward, almost bending in half, to stare at the intricate knot work lying behind strips of fabric.

Angor leaned back and jutted his hips forwards to help Strickler move faster. He could feel impatience in his blood like a disease and hated that he enjoyed the sensation. He thrust his head down forcefully and cracked the edges of his horns against Strickler's. He slowly tilted his head in a strange kind of nuzzle at the air, dragging both sets of horns together.

"Gyyyaaah!" Strickler shuddered and pressed his forehead into Angor's chest. He could feel the heat of the transfer running through his body, amplifying the need for release, the need for physical contact. He slid a claw under the ties of Angor's loin cloth and sliced through. He shifted his legs to allow the fabric to fall to the ground.

Angor Rot's chest rumbled in a deep purr as Strickler exposed him. He shifted his weight to properly permit his erection to rise. A softer stone than the rest of him for sure, but stone none-the-less. A dark gray phallus with pulsing swirls of orange, throbbing in time to a heart that once beat. A small bead of bioluminescent blue pearled from his tip and ran down its length.

It had been years since Strickler had seen a naked troll, a strange thought in other circumstances. A Changeling's body much more closely resembled that of a human where as the trolls seemed appropriately unique. Angor Rot's phallus was slender, glowing and smooth. Strickler grunted as the assassin reached up once more and attempted to push him backwards.

Angor's shoving produced results this time and he prodded Strickler to lean back onto his elbows. He slid his hand down the Changeling's torso until he reached Strickler's garment. Angor unceremoniously pinched the belt between his fingers and ripped down the center. His nose curled slightly at the odd, slightly mushroom shaped erection before him. As green as Strickler himself, with barely visible glowing white runes.

Strickler felt vulnerable being so closely studied. He shifted to lean all his weight on one elbow and with his left hand reached out to grab at Angor Rot. He curled two fingers into one of the deep caverns in the assassin's stone flesh. He was met with a roar from the troll. The Changeling smirked.

Angor glared down at the smirking Strickler, pain ebbing around his edges. He snarled and slammed himself forward and down. The movement shifted Strickler back far enough that his head did not hit the desk but his back did. Angor held the Changeling down with his weight, turning his head to shove Strickler's to the side.

Strickler shouted as Angor's teeth clamped down along the side of his neck. His legs kicked at the air as he attempted to pry himself loose. He brought both hands to Angor's chest and dug his claws into stone flesh, raking them down in long gashes. The assassin's shout vibrated against Strickler's throat. The Changeling arched his back and slid his erection along Angor's, the friction creating a light show between them.

Angor ran his tongue along the weeping wounds he'd left in Strickler's neck. He turned and grazed his teeth along the Changeling's shoulder, feeling powerful claws rake along his abdomen. He slid a large hand down Strickler's body until he found a leg. Angor bent the Changeling's leg up and ground his hips down.

Strickler's voice sounded high against Angor's low, vibrating rumble. He could not hold back a wanton moan as Angor hoisted his leg up. Strickler glanced down at their glowing cocks and swallowed hard. He grabbed hold of one of Angor's horns and tried to prepare himself for what was shaping up to be a rough coupling.

Angor attempted to shake off Strickler but the Changeling had a tight hold. The assassin gave up and reached down to grab hold of his erection. He groaned into Strickler's collar bone as he bent his back to shift his position. He coated his hands and fingers with slick in just a few strokes, running the backs of his knuckles torturously along Strickler's strange phallus.

Strickler barely held in the urge to squirm under his partner. He was not opposed to his role in the coupling but he could not deny a rather primal dislike for being manhandled and pinned in such a way. He pulled harder against Angor's horn until it was within reach, then he leaned forward and bit into it.

"Ggguuuh!" Angor's eyes flashed wide and he shook his head to try and free it with no more success than he'd had earlier. He snarled and lapped his tongue up what of Strickler's chest he could reach. He groped blindly along the Changeling's backside with his slick fingers until he found what he was looking for. He smeared some of his bioluminescent fluid against Strickler's opening as his only warning.

"Aa--nnngghhh!" Strickler sunk his teeth deeper into Angor's horn as the troll shifted and began pressing himself into the Changeling's opening. Strickler squeezed his eyes shut, panting hotly around chalky horn, as he burned. As Angor growled and pushed in deeper Strickler released his jaws and let his head fall backwards.

Angor quickly pulled his head away from the Changeling, body shuddering in pleasure. He grabbed Strickler's hip with his right arm and pulled the Changeling towards him as he thrust deeper. Long, surprised moans fell from his lips as his body began to remember things it had too long been denied.

Strickler's right arm dropped to the desk, digging long furrows into the wood. His left flailed wildly until he landed on the back of Angor's neck. He used the grip to pull himself up and tilted his chin down towards his chest. He shoved his head desperately into the direction of his hand until his horns yet again slammed into Angor's.

Angor rolled his hips as Strickler grated their horns together. He felt a satisfying completion as he buried himself completely into the Changeling. As the light from their transfer ran down his body he felt it spread into his groin. He was almost unprepared for the electric reaction from the lights within Strickler's body.

Strickler rutted his horns into Angor's until he was sure he was going to saw them in half. Each new contact sent shockwaves of shared pleasure straight to his core, lessening the pain of the breach. His body lit up with contact from the inside out. He dug his free heel into Angor's back as the assassin stiffened and began to thrust in earnest.

"Haaaahhh..." Angor's voice was alien to his own ears, roused in passion he'd written out of his existence long ago. His pace was rough and staccato, held to no rhythm but what felt good. Underneath him Strickler arched his back, bringing their chests together and pulling their horns apart. Angor glanced briefly at the Changeling's face but his eyes were caught by the glinting of the inferna capula.

Strickler felt dizzy with a kind of physical relief found only during the mating season--provided a partner could be acquired. It had been years since he'd had such a stroke of luck. His body shook with Angor's thrusts, impossible to predict and wild. He opened his eyes in time to see Angor's hand reaching out.

"Nnnyyaaah!" Angor roared, slamming into Strickler in retaliation. His wandering hand was grabbed in the Changeling's mouth, teeth sinking into his palm and thumb. He pulled down and freed himself, turning the hand instead to Strickler's throat. He curled long fingers against the Changeling's neck and felt a thrill run through his own body from his connection with the Changeling.

Strickler did not even try to contain his shame, he could obsess over guilt when he was not mating with a creature set upon killing him in any other situation. He keened a breathless noise as Angor's fingers tightened and in response he clenched around the assassin's dick. 

Angor's only response left was a deep chuckle and a purr of appreciation. He slid his hand away from the Changeling's throat and heard a deep gasp. Angor turned his claws into the desk below them and ground himself into Strickler. He curled his hips and found his breath hard to catch. Each breath out turned into a noise the troll could not begin to classify.

Strickler's ears pinned back, assaulted with the passionate cries of his assassin. The penetrating came faster, rougher, pausing for an occasional rest wherein the Changeling's whole body throbbed in time. Mindless to the emotional connotations adhered to his actions, Strickler slid his hands up Angor Rot's arms and gripped at the back of his neck once more.

Angor Rot was nearly lost in the rut, pounding into the Changeling below him as if his soul were not just mere inches out of his reach. He could see a white light building just behind his eyes, his own glowing produced a strobe like effect on the room, echoed by the Changeling's softer glow.

Strickler's toes curled, his body burned and his eyes tried to roll out of his skull. His knees pressed into Angor's side, heels dug into his back. The Changeling's thumbs stroked against Angor's throat like affectionate pats. Strickler tilted his chin towards his chest and began tugging desperately at Angor's head.

Angor could feel Strickler's urgings almost like the annoyance of pixies. He knew what the Changeling wanted--to fully complete the coupling--but the assassin hesitated. He had only done such a thing once or twice in his life and the thought of doing so now gave him pause. It could easily be a weakness to exploit, provided it worked. 

"D-don't..." Strickler growled breathless, his voice more like a plea than a demand. He clawed at Angor's stone flesh, each breath out a small mewl of nearing euphoria. As his demands continued to go unmet he slapped a hand to Angor's uninjured horn and tugged frantically. His mind warred between his approaching climax and the fear that Angor would not agree and the whole thing would have been for naught.

"Don't y-you dare..."

Angor's ears burned as Strickler hissed between them. He felt the Changeling clench again, insides spasming as he tried to hold back. Angor could not find the breath to growl or respond, so he snarled silently. Critically curious as to what of his life still remained, Angor gave in and slammed his horns into Strickler's. 

The final transference caused both trolls to shout, long, low cries of something like a connection. Both bodies lit up like fire, pulsing and glowing to a blinding light as orgasm gripped them both, shared, duplicated and doubled through the transference. It was like a salve to the aches of the mating season, a soft hand down from the explosion of climax.

Strickler let his head fall back again, horn tips almost driving into the front of his desk. His hands fell to his sides limply as he strove to quickly catch his breath. He could feel the heat of Angor's luminescence inside him against the cooling of his own pooled at his stomach.

Angor rested his weight slumped onto the desk, claws still dug deeply into the wood, legs weak underneath him. The climax had been fulfilling, his body was sated and for now the heat was gone... but the transference was a solemn reminder of what he had lost. His mind remained a buzz, unquieted by the mating, untouched by a common electric current shared between all troll kind. He felt the cold begin to creep in.

Strickler felt Angor stir atop him and was only marginally prepared for the troll to separate them. 

"Nnngggh." Strickler winced, drawing himself up to sit as Angor stepped away. The room felt silent, like a fog. The Changeling watched as Angor knelt to retrieve his clothing. Strickler reached up for the ring.

Angor Rot cautiously tipped his gaze towards Strickler. He lifted his head and defiantly met eyes with the other troll as green fingers removed the inferna copula from Strickler's horn. Angor Rot felt his core speed up, something like a heart pulsing deep in his chest, thudding in his head as Strickler hesitated.

Strickler held the ring between his fingers, slowly pulling it away from his horn. He could hear his inner monologue warring options against itself in seconds that must have felt like lifetimes. In the end he slid the ring back onto his finger with solid resolve.

"I'll kill you." Angor Rot promised hoarsely. 

"I know."

[ Here on Tumblr ](http://lokiiwhatwehavehere.tumblr.com/post/155706158431/oh-strickleryou-will-never-buff-that-out-of-your)


	10. VERY NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW NSFW NSFW
> 
> This chapter contains mutual masturbation  
> AAARRRGGHH & Draal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You do NOT have to read this chapter to get the full effect of the fic.

Draal snorted, nose ring jostling and steam rising from his nostrils into the cool night air. The forest was quiet, the ground beneath him still. His opponent was sneaking.

"Impressive." Draal crooned into the air, eyes scanning the trees. AAARRRGGHH was too large to move without disrupting something. Draal just had to be patient; the bigger troll would eventually give himself away.

Draal let out a triumphant shout as a large stick cracked in the distance. He spun towards the noise, arms out in preparation.

"Yaaaaaah!" AAARRRGGHH declared himself, launching forward from behind Draal. The Krubera troll smirked as Draal turned just in time to meet AAARRRGGHH's eyes before being taken to the ground in a mass of stone flesh and green fur.

Draal groaned and grunted, attempting to right himself under AAARRRGGHH. Eventually he gave in and tapped the Krubera on the shoulder twice, ending the match.

"Good call." AAARRRGGHH taunted lightly as he stood, eyes closed as he shook his head.

"Don't patronize me!" Draal snorted, smirking. He spun quickly as AAARRRGGHH turned his head and unwittingly knocked their horns together. Any other time of the year nothing would have happened; a troll's horns were mostly useless unless in battle... but not during the mating season.

Even the brief contact is enough to trigger a small transference. Light ignites along both trolls' horns and quickly pours downwards to light up across their numerous scars and tattoos until it fades into the grass at their feet. With the illumination comes feelings, sensations, the silent reason why both trolls continued to insist on sparring harder and longer. Stone flesh is temporarily reduced to soft, wanting bundles of nerves. The light fades (as both trolls quickly pulled away) and the sensations dull just slightly.

Draal laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned away. AAARRRGGHH looked caught between frightened and confused. He knew fully well what had transpired, it had simply been so long and in his hundreds of years he'd never accidentally triggered a transference. 

The Krubera almost laughed in earnest, but the noise died in his throat as he turned to look back at Draal. There was a serious, unsure and kind of spell-struck look on the young troll's face. AAARRRGGHH felt a pang deep in his core. Draal was still young (by troll standards, of course, Jim insisted that 200 was not young) and the mating seasons still ruled him by leaps and bounds compared to the older trolls. 

AAARRRGGHH quickly held up his hands and took a step back. He shook his head and uttered a low 'uh uh.'

Draal felt embarrassment run through his body like ice and his eyes grew wide. How foolish! He cleared his throat and looked away. AAARRRGGHH had been a great warrior, it was silly to assume he would want to couple with Draal. 

"Uh, right, sorry. Bad idea." Draal moved to leave the small wooded area outside Arcadia proper. He was stopped as AAARRRGGHH grabbed his arm.

"Yes. Not because you, because me." AAARRRGGHH turned the young troll to face him, placing a hand on his own chest to emphasize. 

Draal frowned and tilted his head to one side. 

"I--Don't understand?"

"Bad idea. Brothers-in-Arms. Makes things... weird." AAARRRGGHH looked away sheepishly, hoping his scent did not give him away. He was not entirely against the idea of coupling with Draal (after all, coupling was temporary, it was not as if the young troll were suggesting they mate) but there was too much risk that Draal would find out about his injury. AAARRRGGHH was still not ready for that conversation. He could not chance Draal discovering the wound by touch or through transference. 

"Ahh, well... We don't want to make things weird." Draal nodded, still not entirely convinced. He'd heard tons of stories of comrades in battle coupling. It could serve many useful purposes. Though, none of these accounts were of Krubera trolls. Perhaps it was different for them.

Draal moved once more to slink sheepishly away and was again stopped by AAARRRGGHH's hand on his arm.

"Wait." AAARRRGGHH sighed, glancing down as Draal turned to look at him. "Season is hard." He admitted, nodding and flaring his nostrils as if to illustrate his own struggles with control. "Transference bad, coupling weird but..." He glanced curiously to Draal. "Other options."

Draal frowned and knitted his brow-stone up in the center in confusion. He did not like feeling lost in a conversation, like he was missing the point. He supposed he was being tested as the scenario kept arising. He shrugged helplessly.

"I--what do you mean, AAARRRGGHH?"

"Sit." AAARRRGGHH instructed, pointing to the ground and then gently tugging on Draal's wrist to hammer the point home. The Krubera troll shifted and stepped to the side as Draal sat. He nodded and then settled himself into a seated position, his back against Draal's. He shifted and brushed their stone flesh together, his fur catching along Draal's crystaline structures.

Draal was confused for the briefest of seconds before the realization dawned on him. He tilted his head slightly and snorted as he nodded. AAARRRGGHH's fur smelled like salt and other deep cavern spices. He shifted and rested himself steadier against AAARRRGGHH's back and closed his eyes.

AAARRRGGHH could feel Draal shifting behind him, picking up on the unspoken suggestion. The Krubera smiled slightly to himself and took a slow, deep breath. Through the scents of the forest he could pick up on Draal's sharp odor, tangy like copper. AAARRRGGHH rumbled appreciatively and slowly slid a large hand to the crook of his hip, fingers brushing against his groin plating. (Rule three did not apply to the heavily armored Krubera trolls.)

Draal made quick work of his kilt, draping it aside with very little worry that they would be interrupted. His stone flesh was already responsive, triggered by the season and by the brief accidental transference. His dark blue erection was relatively untouched by the runes and tattoos across the rest of his body. Bright purple precum dripped down onto Draal's fingers as he gently ran a thumb up his length.

AAARRRGGHH rubbed almost lazily against his groin plates, swirling his thumb along sensitive runes that lit up in the wake of his thumb pads. He let his mind settle on the scent of his companion, the heat in his core and slowly the plates shifted aside. Everything about the Krubera trolls was large and this was no exception. AAARRRGGHH's large hand was slowly curled into a fist around his expanding dick.

Draal began with slow, leisurely strokes, his palm glowing. It was not quite the fevered pace he'd felt before during the mating season, but it was still welcome. His mind wandered to the troll behind him and his fingers were coated in a new layer of precum as his erection throbbed. He felt a strange sort of guilt for thinking about AAARRRGGHH when coupling had been denied, and so he shook the Krubera troll from his thoughts.

AAARRRGGHH indulged far more frequently than he assumed his companions suspected. In the beginning it had helped him calm his anger and now it was a nice reminder that he could be calm and quiet and comfortable with his body all at once. He did not need to conjure faces or scenarios, the simple physical stimulation was always sufficient. His core began a low purr as he began circling the edge of his erection with a thumb.

Draal had spent numerous mating seasons coupled, before the passing of his father he'd literally had his pick of troll market. They were all very nice and they had all meant different things, but few of them were of any use in times like these. Draal's mind suggested--in a sluggish, lust filled haze--his brief mating with Numora the Changeling. A burning sensation in his right arm where stone met metal churned up only anger and he ignored Numora's memories as well.

AAARRRGGHH's purring grew louder, partially drowning out the sound of his movements as he increased his pace. His fist blotted out the light from his palm with every pass, making details in the forest grow foggy as his eyes were forced to readjust every few seconds. His lips parted to permit labored breathing as the sensation began to outweigh all other thoughts.

Draal was almost becoming too frustrated to find release. He had never quite been able to pleasure himself through just physical stimulation alone; he needed more. His eyes opened to small slits and he tilted his head just gently towards AAARRRGGHH. They were not going to enact any further transferences which meant that Draal's thoughts would be private. 

AAARRRGGHH rolled his finger tip around on the head of his dick. He smeared aqua colored slick around the most sensitive parts, squeezing the base. His other hand slipped behind his shaft and prodded. He shifted to permit his palm to roll against his gronk'nucs. 

Draal let out a low rumble, panting out puffs of steam. His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth curled in concentration. Strong, dark arms were entwined with his and the air was filled with sound of stone grinding against stone. His glowing cock was rubbing against a darker phallus, steadily leaking red fluid like lava. 

AAARRRGGHH's purring reached a crescendo as his fist tightened over his phallus. He focused on massaging his 'nucs, his head almost rolling on his shoulders. The warmth of his core seemed to spread throughout his body. His mind was nearly silent and his body began to relax. He smiled. The guilt, the shame, the constant narration in the back of his mind and the threat of overwhelming rage calmed and vanished. 

Draal leaned forward, pulling his back away from AAARRRGGHH just slightly. In his mind his horns were pushed against onyx stone, bathing a small forgotten corner of troll market in purple and red light. Grinding stone was soon usurped by growling, deep, sensual rumblings. Draal was almost there and in his mind his partner knew, could sense it. 'Let go, Trollhunter.' Bular growled low.

AAARRRGGHH stiffened as he came, catching most of his release in his open palm. He glanced around sheepishly before wiping his hand in the grass. He let his mind dwell on the warmth still coiled in his body. In a few moments he knew his mind would wake back up but he always enjoyed the rare moments of feeling 'normal'.

Draal spilled over his fist, copiously coating the grass between his legs and blessedly missing his kilt. He caught his breath and unknowingly followed AAARRRGGHH's lead by cleaning his hand on the ground. Though he knew there was no way for the Krubera to read his thoughts, Draal still felt worried. He tilted his head as he straightened back up and let his back rest against AAARRRGGHH's.

AAARRRGGHH made a satisfied hum and gave Draal time to re-buckle his kilt before suggesting they return to their respective posts.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE

Not-Enrique wrung his hands together nervously, right ear pressed to the door. He could hear the Nunez parents moving about in the kitchen, talking too quietly for him to hear. Their words didn't really matter, it was their lack of words he was listening for. He'd drugged their coffee pot and knew it was a sure thing--he'd seen them both drink enough coffee to give /him/ the runs. He just had to wait until the drugs took effect and then he was free.

In a manner of speaking. He was free to enact Strickler's plan at the very least. He'd thought it over long and hard and Not-Enrique was pretty sure he had a decent plan laid out. Rot and Gut were easy to manipulate and he didn't figure they were smart enough to wonder why he--a Changeling--was alone in troll market. They were familiar enough with him that he figured he might be able to convince them he was on an errand for the Trollhunter.

Two loud crashes from downstairs told Not-Enrique his plan was now or never. He took a deep breath and darted towards the window. He easily by-passed the childproof locks and shimmied down the roof. Hopping into the nearby tree he slid down and began his escape.

He was getting good at staying out of sight, clinging to the shadows and putting himself on high alert. He was still all too eager for the day when he would appear old enough in his glamour to simply walk around unbothered. What age was appropriate for young humans to be out alone? Five? Six? Ugh, human ages and numbers meant nothing.

He followed the path Blinky, AAARRRGGHH and Draal had inadvertently taught him and was staring down troll market in no time. He pulled the small piece of Claire's key from his diaper--which was their little secret--and made his entry. 

He walked slowly down the crystal staircase, ears perked forward to try and get as much notice as he could as to the state of things down below. According to accounts from various goblins, trolls and an uptight Strickler, Not-Enrique really had no idea what awaited him. It would be either a mass of fighting trolls bent on destruction, a sticky and glowing orgy of troll parts, or absolutely nothing. Not-Enrique wasn't sure what was worse.

As he padded his way lower and lower he began catching glimpses of the market. It looked relatively the same. During the day it was slower, less populated, and the mating season didn't seem to effect that much. A few vendors stood sleepily at their carts but didn't bother to call out to the passers by.

Not-Enrique skittered to one side of the crystal starcase and peered over the edge. There was an awning not too far and he was confident a good jump would land him on top of it. He tried to keep the bouncing to a minimum.

"Mmmmfff, stupid gnomes." Mumbled the half away shop keep, jabbing a broom handle into the fabric. 

Not-Enrique dodged the stabs and crawled over onto an outcropping. He did another critical sweep of the market. 

"Huh. Figures. Leave it to kooks like Strickler to exaggerate." Not-Enrique saw no evidence that the mating season was as disruptive as the elder Changeling had implied. "Everybody just looks... tired." He snorted, then shrugged. "Fine by me."

He made his way through the market at a record pace. He could slip in and out of places no other troll could--for the time being--and with guards practically asleep at their posts, Not-Enrique had very little to worry about. 

He felt impossibly small and vulnerable crawling up the stairs to Rot and Gut's shop. Had it always been so big? Or had it just seemed smaller from his perch on AAARRRGGHH's shoulders? He swallowed hard and leaned back on his haunches to stare up at the massive stone before him.

"Here goes nut'in'." He muttered to himself. He crept forward, lifted his hand and knocked.

The Changeling tilted his head to one side as the loud snoring from behind the door stalled out, replaced by grunts and groans. He flinched as the two-headed troll began yelling at itself for falling asleep on the job. There seemed to be some kind of scuffle--things were thrown around--and then the bottom most window popped open to reveal an orange eye.

"What now?" The voice purred, eye flinching closed as something crashed on the other side of the door. The eye began scanning the stairs behind Not-Enrique. 

"Where is... the Troll hunter?" 

"Uh, right, he's uh--busy! Doin'... Trollhunter stuff. He sent me down here to get him uh... somethin'. Somethin' super important." Not-Enrique's ears pinned back, his stomach soured as he realized he had completely forgotten the name of the item he was to fetch.

"Ok." The eye seemed more patient than it's counterpart, continuously yelling and throwing things behind the safety of the door.

"Roll over, you! Let me at the door!"

"It's a uh--uhm... Charm."

"Uhh huhh... have charms."

"For uh--Good luck?" Not-Enrique held his palms out plaintively. "Yanno uh... to help... people get... lucky?"

"Oh!" The eye widened. "Caru swyn!" 

Not-Enrique frowned. That didn't quite sound right but he couldn't remember.

"Uh, it was something like... co-co-Coin... arch?"

"Cwningen swyn cariad?"

"Yeah! Yeah that sounds much bettah!" Not-Enrique whooped. He reached into his diaper and produced three socks, three socks he was absolutely loathe to give up. He sighed and held them towards the door.

"This seem like a fair trade to you?"

"Are those...?" Gasped the second head as it swung open an upper door at long last.

"Professional NBA socks worn just three nights ago?" Not-Enrique grumbled. "Yeah. Dat's dem."

"Fair trade! Fair trade!" The bottom door swung shut and a large furry something was thrown out of the center door. 

Not-Enrique moved forward and picked up the object. It was sort of heart shaped--the human kind of heart shaped, not the anatomical kind--and furry as AAARRRGGHH's shoulders. The color reminded Not-Enrique of the Nunez kitten. 

"Well? The socks!" Demanded the upper troll.

"Oh! Yeah, here ya go big fellas. Enjoy." Not-Enrique did not sound sincere as he chucked the socks through the open door. 

The Changeling strolled back towards the crystal staircase, rolling the strange charm in his hands. It was an odd thing, but then he imagined most charms were. He shuddered as he shoved it into his diaper. Magic and Changelings rarely went well together.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE-ish
> 
> A lesson in troll reproduction by Claire

"Ok." Jim took a deep breath. "Ok." He let it out slowly and rolled his shoulders. "Ok." He shifted into a comfortable position on the park bench and nodded. "Go ahead, Claire. Do it."

Claire and Tobias looked at each other and then back to Jim. Toby snickered and continued to pick at the blade of grass he'd been spinning between his fingers.

"She's not gonna hurt you, Jimbo, geez. Relax. It's just like sex ed--only..."

"Only not." Claire offered, chuckling as Jim groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Look buddy, I get it. Having your lady friend school you on troll love-making isn't ideal but, you wanted to know." 

"It's not--It's not just that." Jim let one hand rest and propped his chin in the other. "I'm the Trollhunter. I don't think about people having--making--uh... doing stuff. Ever. I'm just worried that it's going to get in the way of things."

"Jim, every creature on earth reproduces one way or another." Claire sighed, large book propped up in front of her. "What's so different about trolls?"

"They're--too much like us!" Jim stood and ran his hands into his hair. "I mean animals do it to make babies. Right? Humans, Trolls... seems like we both do it for-for..."

"Fun?" Tobias supplied.

"Pleasure?" Claire chuckled.

Jim's face could not get more red. He walked forward a bit, staring out over the cliff, staring at Arcadia laid out before him like an anthill.

"Dolphins and pigs mate for pleasure." Claire offered. "Look, Jim, you wanted to know and I'm willing to tell you. Try to--try to think about it like this: You're learning about the people you're going to protect. Sure you might never need this knowledge but won't you feel better knowing more about them?"

"I guess. I just don't want to look at AAARRRGGHH and think... and imagine..." Jim looked down at his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Jimbo, do you look at me and think... and imagine?" Tobias fluttered his eyelashes.

"No! You're my best friend! I wouldn't--"

"What about your mom?" Claire joined in. "Do you--"

"Ok, ok! I get the point! Ugh!" Jim stuck his tongue out and and made a gagging noise.

"He's so immature." Toby joked, grinning at Claire as she chuckled.

"You've both made your point. Let's--let's get started."

"All right," Claire shifted to sit cross-legged on the ground, the book in her lap, "for starters troll women can't always get pregnant, which I guess is obvious when you consider it's mating season. They're made of rock and mineral, kind of literally, and there's only a brief period of time where that changes enough to let them. Something about core rotation. I uh, I haven't quite figured that part out yet."

"Oh man," Toby chuckled, patting his belly and grinning, "I would not want to run into a pregnant troll. My nana told me stories about my mom when she was pregnant with me. On a war path, I think, was what she said. Can you imagine if that grumpy old hag in the market got knocked up? She'd eat our faces!" 

"Be nice." Jim reprimanded.

"So there's kind of a common current that runs through all trolls. Like programming, I guess, put out by the heart stones. Most trolls are effected--though it lists a few sub species as immune--and the symptoms are pretty much what you'd expect." Claire's cheeks reddened just a little as she met Jim's eyes. "All trolls of age start to experience a, uh, a need to connect. Depending on the state of the troll in question this urge is said to range from a nagging like an itch to a full blown addiction and everything in between."

"Wait, 'depending on the state of the troll'? What's that mean?" Jim rolled the amulet in his hand.

"Their age, health, mental state, that kind of thing. It seems like the current is kind of sentient, in a way. Really selective. It only wants the strongest and healthiest trolls to breed, so the better your state the more the current effects you." Claire shrugged. "It makes sense. If trolls can only reproduce in a short window, they wouldn't want to risk anything."

"Yikes." Toby shook his head. "At first it sounded kind of fun but now I'm really glad humans don't work like that." He glanced down at himself with a frown.

"Don't be like that, Tobs." Jim put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sure the current would be all over you!"

"Uh, thanks. I think?"

"So uh, these... urges; this current thing; it goes away when a troll uhm... connects?" Jim waved his hands in the air and touched his fingertips together.

"Yes and no. Trolls have uhm--different kinds of connections." Claire flipped a few pages and paused as she looked at the pictures again. "They have mating which is just like it sounds. It's a connection intended to make a baby. A specific purpose. Then they have what's called coupling." Claire slowly turned the book. "It's a kind of ... connection where um..." She sighed. "They just do it to fulfill urges."

Jim and Toby looked at one another, and then slowly regarded the book. The drawings were incredibly tasteful and both boys relaxed. On one page the two trolls had their foreheads together and were looking downward at the female's stomach. A small stone like a bellybutton radiated light, which animated into a swirling glow as Jim held the amulet towards the book. The words 'mating' appeared above the couple. The second picture featured two trolls touching horns. The same animated light appeared but this time it spread through both trolls' bodies from the touching of their horns. 'Coupling' was written along the bottom of the page.

"It's like a light show." Toby said with a low whistle.

"They have this thing called a transference." Claire's voice sounded almost wistful as she turned the page for the boys. "When they touch horns in times of heightened emotions the horns act as conduits. It amplifies the emotions from both trolls and kind of doubles it. It's like being able to feel your partner's soul!" 

Jim glanced at Claire briefly before moving his amulet again over the pages. The illustrated touching horns both lit up and the light spread down across the page. 

"Wow." Jim croaked.

"So wait, in times of heightened emotion? Wouldn't that be like... during a fight?" Toby questioned. "Woah man. Think about it! It's like the ultimate taunt! You slam into your opponent and show 'em just exactly how much you want to beat their face in."

Claire and Jim both laughed as she took the book back into her laugh. Jim rubbed the back of his neck. 

"That's pretty intense. I'd be scared all my opponent would feel was just how terrified I was."

"So, how are troll babies born?" Toby piped in curiously, leaning forward to try and catch a glance at the book. "I always kinda assumed they were like... born out of rocks."

"You're not completely wrong." Claire flipped a few pages. "Trolls carry the babies for almost a full year, kind of like people. The internal stuff all gets fuzzy and I haven't quite pieced it all together. But, at the end they essentially carve the baby off it's mother." 

Jim and Toby eagerly leaned forward this time, the amulet at the ready. The illustrated troll mother looked almost as if she were undergoing some kind of plastic surgery as a few other trolls took tools to her stomach. The amulet animated the sequence and showed the 'baby bump' popping right off. It rolled onto the next page where a tiny form rested curled up inside.

"Awww, it's so cute!" Toby cooed.

"Baby trolls are completely crystalized!" Claire declared, flipping the page. 

"So shiny." Toby giggled. "They're like night lights!"

"They're also incredibly vulnerable. They scratch easy and have really no control over any of their motor skills. So, a lot like human babies." She smiled as Jim waved his amulet over the page again and again, animating the almost translucent baby troll. "As they get older this crystal stuff is covered by protective stone flesh. Until they grow up completely and look like AAARRRGGHH and Blinky--just one big stone."

"That is... wild!" Jim laughed. "I kinda... I kinda want to see one now."

"Don't you just?" Claire squealed, then laughed nervously. Jim joined her.

"Wait a minute," Toby stared hard at the book then reached out for Jim's wrist.

"Hey, easy." 

"Look at this," Toby waved the amulet over one of the open pages, animating a baby troll going through his aging process. He stopped the amulet over a stage very close to the end and pointed at it.

"This looks like Draal! Look!"

Jim and Claire leaned in. The troll illustrated on the page below them was scratching at his arms where large clusters of crystals had formed. These crystals were gone in subsequent 'aging' portraits.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," Toby laughed, pointing at the book, "it's troll acne! Draal has troll acne!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE

"This is not at all what I expected." Strickler grumbled, holding the charm up to the light. He squinted green eyes and rubbed a thumb over the fuzzy pouch. He lowered his hand and stared across the room at Not-Enrique.

"You're sure this is the right one?" He asked, even as he shoved the item into his jacket pocket.

"Oh yeah. Absolutely. I told the big guy I needed luck." Not-Enrique shrugged. "You some kinda charm expert now?" He fixed Strickler with a scrupulous eye.

"No. Hardly." Strickler seemed to shudder. He sighed and rubbed at the side of his neck, then paused to glance over his shoulder at the young Changeling.

"You did very well. Exceeded my expectations, if I'm being perfectly frank."

"Yer welcome. Frank." Not-Enrique laughed.

"Ha. Ha." Strickler picked up a small mirror tucked away in the corners of his bookcase. "Now all that remains is to get this to our comrades out searching. Hopefully we'll turn something up."

Not-Enrique glanced up as a glimmer in the room signalled Strickler dropping his glamour. It always made Not-Enrique feel better to see the older Changelings do it. He felt strange that he craved his troll form so badly, it was nice to see age did not completely erase that. His human form still felt strange and ill-fitted, though watching Strickler assured him that would fade with time.

"Woah!" Not-Enrique quickly scampered across the room and climbed up the bookshelf. 

He ignored Strickler's tongue clicking and whistled as he leaned forward to get a better look at the elder Changeling. On the left side of his neck, visible under his weaponized collar, was a huge bite mark. The injury was raised, bruised and angry.

"Hooo man. What happened t' you?"

"That's none of your concern." Strickler spat, even as he turned his head and pulled down the collar to get a better look. "My affairs are not on the table for discussion."

"Sheesh. Forget I asked."

"Now, return home before your parents notice your absence. I will get this charm into the right hands." Strickler re-adjusted his collar. "With added luck we will find another Fetch before the order tells us not to."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE

"So you cheated." Blinky accused, frowning and shaking his head.

"No! I didn't... Ugh! Do you have to be so difficult?" Jim squared up to human Blinky. It was much easier to do in his own home, with Draal behind him. Blinky was almost non-intimidating.

"Just tell Blinky what you told Claire earlier, Jim." Toby suggested from the stairs. "Really seemed to convince her."

"Yes, Master Jim. I am eager to hear what you told Claire to convince her to join you in this... forgery!" Blinky fought back, poking Jim in the chest.

"Oww man. Watch it." He sighed. "Ok, all I said was that I'm still a high school student, a human, a kid! I can't be expected to do all the things a Trollhunter usually does. I can't be Jim and the Trollhunter... that's why I have you guys. You guys help me do both. You and Draal trained me, Toby and Claire help get me important information. I couldn't find time to read an entire saga and defeat Bular and get good grades and make sure my mom doesn't marry a Changeling!"

"My father was able to multi-task efficiently enough." Draal offered with a grunt. He frowned as Tobias looked at him with a sudden burst of interest.

"Not helping, Draal."

"This sounds like another excuse, Master Jim." Blinky's tone was now full of disappointment. 

"Blinky, I'm the first human Trollhunter. You've said yourself that things are going to work differently. So why can't this? I mean... Trollhunters are heroes to you guys, celebrities. I bet they don't need to pay for anything, right? People give them stuff for free because they're off saving everybody."

"But of course! It's only fair; it's only right!"

"Ok! Exactly--I don't get that."

"Oh Master Jim. I am sure every vendor in Troll Market would happily--"

"No no, I mean up here. In my world. I don't get that. I won't ever get that. I need an education, I need a job! I need to make money some day. I need to function like a regular human or I'm going to be locked up to protect my physical or mental health (maybe both) and I can't be your Trollhunter if I'm sedated and in a padded room." 

Draal tilted his head away from Toby as the young human reached up and began poking him. He snorted.

"I suppose you bring up a fair point." Draal conceded. He heard Toby move behind him and he grunted.

"Well, I suppose..." Blinky started, dropping his arms from across his chest and shaking his head. "At least now you know of our current predicament."

"Oh yeah, we know all about it." Jim boasted.

"Hey!" Draal shouted as Toby reached out and flicked a large cluster of crystals on his arm. He snarled.

"Yeah, we know. Looks like you could use some ProActive, my man."

"Pro... Active? I am very active! Far more proficiently than you." Draal growled, sending Jim and Toby into fits of laughter.


	15. NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW NSFW NSFW NSFW
> 
> Angor Rot/Strickler 
> 
> Very explicit sex, rimming, blow jobs, anal, knotting, light breath play kinda, orgasm denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My amazing husband has illustrated the previous chapter of NSFW Angor Rot/Strickler!
> 
> Go see here: http://lokiiwhatwehavehere.tumblr.com/post/155706158431/oh-strickleryou-will-never-buff-that-out-of-your

Strickler stumbled forward and barely managed to catch himself on a tree. He growled over his shoulder at the offending rock. He had been on his way to deliver the charm when the ring had alerted him that Angor Rot was returning to the little hovel he called 'home' near the sewers. 

Before Strickler knew it he was headed in that direction. Half-way to his destination he assumed he just needed to check in and make sure his undead assassin was still on task. It had nothing to do with the transference which still caused buzzes of memory to tingle through the most sensitive of Strickler's parts.

He slipped and nearly fell into the cement ditch, hissing and dropping his glamour. He didn't do it very often but the season always made his human skin feel too loose. Glancing around to reassure himself he was alone, he began making his way into Angor Rot's abode.

Angor was immensely distracted, and angry, by the fact that he was not distracted. He and the Changeling had undergone the transference, but nothing stuck. There were no lingering thoughts or memories, no tingling of appendages, no desire to re-couple. Angor had felt something, he had! And yet he had no proof, no solid evidence that the experience had been anything other than magic.

For the briefest of seconds in his ages long existence he had thought--he had seen a glimmer of hope--that even without his soul he could feel and know and... 

The troll let out a roar and kicked out at the pile of debris around him. Small stones and rocks became dislodged and rolled towards his wrath. He stomped them repeatedly until nothing remained but dust.

"Good to see you are putting your free time to good use." Strickler ostracized, fluffing up his collar and sneering at the mess in front of him.

Angor turned slowly, glowing eyes merely illuminated slits. His anger boiled low in his gut as his body felt nothing. The transference was supposed to linger, not forever, but long enough. Yet all he could feel towards the Changeling was hatred. 

Strickler felt the charm in his pocket slip and he reached down to shove it back in place. It was unusually warm to the touch. He glanced down at it as Angor Rot moved closer.

"What do you want." Angor demanded, feeling exhaustion creep in. 

"I..." Strickler frowned as he looked up at Angor Rot. His stomach clenched. "I just wanted to make sure our... coupling did not impede upon your task." Strickler glanced quickly away. What on this realm had inspired him to say that?!

"Ha." Angor snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "It will take far more than that to distract me. Once I have marked my target..." His words slowly came to a halt. That feeling, that tingling he had been searching for, he had been waiting for. He craned his head forward just slightly to scan the Changeling's face curiously.

"Yes? Once you have your target... what?" Strickler pressed, smirking at Angor Rot's broken train of thought. He moved a few steps closer, almost able to feel the glow of the troll's eyes on his cheeks. A strange thrum picked up at the base of his horns, his stomach turned to knots.

Angor growled, baring his teeth like a warning as Strickler moved closer. He knew he could not hurt the Changeling while the ring was on green fingers, but it didn't stop him from wanting to... wanting to... He recalled the feeling of his hands around Strickler's throat. The thrill through his very stone at the grinding of horns together.

An idea came into the forefront of Strickler's mind, a crazy, suicidal idea. He swallowed as his throat became dry, something like fear over his features as the thrumming in his horns continued. He watched the same strange entranced expression crossed Angor's face and his groin responded with a twinge that made the Changeling long for transference.

Angor found his breath suddenly hard to catch, his chest felt heavy and once more the empty feeling inside was replaced by something he could not name. Perhaps he had been wrong--perhaps the coupling had worked--and it had just needed a physical reminder. With Strickler so close Angor felt his body yearn for the contact, for the connection, for the only thing he'd felt in years.

Strickler took another step forward, watching Angor's expression carefully. All disbelief was gone and in the moment all Strickler could think about was repeating their coupling. The need burned hot and sudden and Strickler was not going to deny it. He moved forward once more leaving just a hair's width between them and drew his eyes downward. 

Angor's eyes slipped almost closed as Strickler stood incredibly close. He tilted his head cautiously to the side as the Changeling lowered his gaze and began working against the ties on Angor's loin cloth. A noise rumbled in his throat as the cloth fell to his feet, the Changeling's hands resting against his stomach and slowly moving downward.

Strickler's eyes fell to half-lidded slits, his mind a buzz of need. He closed his hands around Angor's waist and slowly bent to his knees in front of the larger troll. His body thrilled, his core burned and his kilt tented almost instantly. He glanced up at Angor Rot and caught something like fear across the undead troll's features. He smirked.

Angor did not like the expression on Strickler's face, but he could find no reason to push the Changeling away--if he even could, being bound to Strickler by the ring. A strange kind of excitement like fear wrapped around him as he smirked back down at the Changeling. Their eyes remained locked as Strickler slowly slid a hand from Angor's hip to his erection.

The Changeling let his thumb stroke the length in front of him, eyes almost fluttering closed as he resisted the urge to look away from Angor Rot. His thumb rounded the tip and swirled around in the glowing precum. Strickler watched Angor Rot's expression curl in pleasure and he pressed a little harder against the opening along the tip.

Angor's mouth opened to permit loose a low groan as Strickler's thumb pulled teasingly at his slit. He broke eye contact first and let his eyes slip closed as another bead of luminescence was caught by the Changeling's thumb. Angor let his body experience--feel--without assistance of his eyes as Strickler's second hand joined the first at his waist.

Strickler gently squeezed at Angor's 'nucs, sliding in closer on his knees. He pressed his forehead to Angor's abdomen and let out a purposeful breath of air. He felt Angor's body tighten as the troll groaned in response, making Strickler's cock strain against his loin cloth. Breathing in hard through his nose the Changeling lowered his head and carefully, slowly, took Angor into his mouth.

Angor's shout was one of surprise, and came completely unbidden. His eyes flared to life and he tilted his head down as far as he could to watch whatever he could see. As Strickler swallowed more of his length, Angor reached out like a reflex and laid his right hand atop the Changeling's head. He let his pointer and pinky fingers rest along backswept horns while the middle two curled around the back of Strickler's head.

Strickler pulled his forehead away from Angor Rot and shifted to sit back on his haunches. He barely resisted the urge to nudge into the hand petting his head and settled instead for giving a soft moan around the dick in his mouth. Angor's fingers curled against his horns and the Changeling nearly purred. He pulled back and pressed the tip of his tongue into the opening leaking luminescense.

"Nnnnggh." Angor grunted, able to see more as the Changeling shifted. He tightened his fingers along the back of Strickler's head, mussing up the usually pristine hair between horns. As his leaking was investigated further he balled his free hand into a fist. His body burned and the warmth was balm to the hole his soul left behind. His body shuddered as Strickler finished his examination of part and once more swallowed the whole.

The Changeling felt a slight pang of annoyance as his hair was distressed, but he ignored it. Having eased Angor's cock into full erection, Strickler began bobbing his head slowly along the length. He let Angor's fingers unconsciously set the pace, feeling them tug and shift with each swallow. He grasped at the base of Angor's shaft with his left hand and dropped his right into his lap, fussing with the buckle on his kilt.

Angor found he was not so much breathing as making small, sharp noises every few seconds. Strickler's mouth on him was so unlike regular coupling and yet so similar. It still sent shockwaves up through his body, up his spine and spider-webbing through his chest. He watched his erection as it was swallowed and released by the Changeling, glistening in the wake of a careful mouth. 

Strickler gave up trying to unbuckle his kilt and slid his hand into the fabric feverishly. He began stroking his own length, almost coordinated enough to match pace with his bobbing along Angor Rot. He heard a strangled groan from the troll looming above him and the fingers on the back of his head tightened. He braced himself and swallowed around the length in his mouth.

"Haaaah!" Angor Rot was unprepared for this new sensation, the tightening and the pulling all at once. He moved one hand to each of Strickler's horns and pulled the Changeling forward, closer. He growled as Strickler repeated the action, and the larger troll could not help but jerk his hips forward. Lost in the sensation he took longer than he would have liked to admit to recognize the frantic slapping of Strickler's hand on his hip.

The Changeling pulled back gasping, a hand going to his throat. He managed to wriggle his hand free from his kilt and pressed it to the floor, leaning his weight onto it to catch his breath. He tilted his head--eyes watering slightly--as Angor Rot knelt in front of him. He watched apprehensively as the troll moved forward to his knees, and scrambled backwards out of reflex. 

Angor reached forward and hooked a finger under the latch of Strickler's cloak. He wondered if this was as thrilling for the Changeling as it was for him. He wanted to know if this was what being alive was like all the time; he had long forgotten. He gave a tug and unlatched the cloak, pulling it over Strickler's shoulder with only mild protesting. He tossed it aside and waved his fingers over the buckle of the Changeling's kilt.

Strickler moaned a soft noise of protest against the magic as his kilt was opened and discarded like his cloak. His protest did not last long as Angor's hands slowly made their way up his calves, engulfing his thighs and higher. The Changeling's moan was desperate as Angor rolled a large palm over a much softer phallus. The second hand moved to what appeared to be a favored spot over the majority of Strickler's chest.

Angor Rot continued to softly grind the heel of his palm into Strickler's groin, pushing to urge the Changeling to lay back. He faced resistance, however, and found both of Strickler's hands around his wrist, tugging him away. He paused.

"I--really prefer not to be on my back." Strickler offered. To illustrate why he leaned back just a little more and two hollow thwacks sounded in the cave as his horns hit the ground. The Changeling tilted his head curiously, sitting back up, as Angor Rot chuckled.

"Then turn your head." The troll reached out and grabbed Strickler's chin, turning his head. The hands on his wrist scrabbled once more to gain leverage, but Angor moved faster. He pressed the Changeling's head to the ground and quickly pulled him onto his back, resting on his shoulder blades, without enough leverage to correct his position.

Strickler shouted as he was unceremoniously up-ended, his head forced to the side at an angle, effectively blinding him from his partner. He clawed at the ground as he felt Angor shifting, large hands on his hips to almost force the Changeling into the start of a head-stand. He relaxed a little as he felt Angor's legs at his mid-back, taking a little weight off Strickler's shoulder blades.

Angor Rot was not one to turn down a challenge, especially while deep in whatever living euphoria he found himself in. He shifted and tugged at Strickler--ignoring a few growls and groans--until the Changeling was almost bent in half and Angor Rot had ample room to work. He slid his hands to the backs of Strickler's knees and leaned forward. 

Strickler attempted once more to push himself free when he felt Angor Rot's tongue along the base of his cock. His body froze and he sucked in a quick breath. He felt rather foolish nearly bent in half--and admittedly a little intimidated being unable to move--but Angor's tongue moved lower and he shivered. 

Angor brushed his teeth teasingly over Strickler's 'nucs, feeling the Changeling's whole body seem to contract against the touch. His tongue slipped backwards and brushed over a tight pucker of flesh. He heard Strickler moan out a stream of curse words and chuckled. He began drawing circles with the tip of his tongue along the sensitive opening.

Strickler turned his hands to the ground as he was unable to reach any of Angor Rot. His claws scraped at unyielding cement as he writhed under the touch of his assassin. He had never felt quite so debauched and it warred only momentarily against his better sense. His eyes fluttered closed--they were useless anyway unless he felt like staring at the wall--and he felt a bead of his own luminescence hit his cheek.

Angor Rot's ears burned with the small mewling noises he pulled from Strickler with just the smallest flick of his tongue. The Changeling writhed in his grasp but was helpless to move away, though the troll gathered that was not what the Changeling was attempting. The strange, soft flesh under his tongue was incredibly responsive to each lap of his tongue.

"Nyyaahhhnngg!" Strickler shouted, kicking slightly as Angor Rot pressed his tongue into his entrance. It curled and Strickler's core threatened to burn up and turn to ash. He should have been concerned with how pathetic his whimper was as the tongue retreated, but it was soon pressing deeper and it was all the Changeling could think about.

Angor continued his assault, alternating between lapping along exposed stone flesh and curling the tip of his tongue inside giving flesh, until Strickler was barely breathing. His nostrils were thick with the scent of a troll in heat and his own cock ached for attention. Giving one more quick, calculated nip at Strickler's 'nucs--and earning a sharp yelp--he slowly lowered the Changeling.

Strickler pushed up onto his elbows at the first opportunity, turning his head on a stiff neck. He found himself laid in Angor Rot's lap, the larger troll's erection pressing wetly into his lower back. His hair was a disaster, his cheeks glowing with his own fluid, and his chest thudded at him for more. The smirk on the larger troll's face sparked a fire of competition in the Changeling and he shifted.

Angor Rot tilted his head to the side as the Changeling moved. He sneered as one of the vines along his shoulder were grabbed to help aid Strickler in sitting. His body clenched against the sensation of the body in his lap rolling against his dick. His eyes roamed towards the horns of his companion and his own thundered for the transference. He reached out without warning and grabbed the back of Strickler's neck.

Strickler caught Angor's gaze and offered no resistance as he was pulled in and his head tilted down. The transference sounded like water in the heat of the day. He rolled his head as the undead troll knocked their horns together. It felt like breathing again, new life being poured into his body like he'd never known what living was. He pulled his legs up to kneel on Angor's thighs and began pushing at his chest.

"Lie back." Strickler instructed in a heated purr, head still tucked in the transference.

Though it was not a command which had to be obeyed, Angor Rot did as he was told. With Strickler's weight in his lap he slowly moved back on to his elbows, watching the Changeling with great interest. Green hips rolled with Angor's movements until Strickler straddled the assassin. Angor shifted to rest on one elbow and reached out with the other hand to stroke the Changeling's thigh.

Strickler arranged himself, knees on either side of Angor, and leaned forward. He braced both clawed hands low on the troll's abdomen and hoisted himself into the air. He slid backwards until he felt the heat of Angor's cock slide between his legs. His eyes fluttered closed and he moaned softly as he teased the head against his thoroughly worked entrance.

Angor gripped Strickler's thigh tighter as his erection was pressed too gently against puckered, soft flesh. He let his head roll back and purred low as weight began to descend on him. His voice mingled with the cry of the Changeling as his cock was slowly taken in, inch by agonizing inch, bodies glowing in the wake of the transference. 

Without the overwhelming panic of their first coupling, Strickler was able to better appreciate the girth he took into himself. Angor Rot was not large by most troll standards, but then neither was Strickler. The Changeling's keening rose in pitch as he slid down the last few inches and arched his back into the sensation. 

Angor Rot thrust his hips upwards, rolling them, and chuckled at the string of curses he elicited from the Changeling. His vision grew hazy as both trolls began working themselves against each other, thoughts of pacts and betrayals replaced by a burning need to complete the coupling. The Changeling was soft and yielding on the inside, and small sparks traveled up Angor's groin with each thrust and roll.

Strickler's mouth hung open and he did nothing to correct his image--there was nothing to be done about his hair at this point anyway. He leaned forward again and dug his claws into Angor's stomach, sliding his own dick against the troll for blessed friction. He felt the assassin clench under his claws, growling a warning. 

Angor ignored the cooling sensation of luminescence against his stomach, trailing behind the Changeling's weeping erection. He lifted himself up and wrapped long fingers around Strickler's waist. He began assisting in hoisting the smaller troll in his riding, breath hitching. Angor wanted to make the coupling last for hours--he felt a fear low in his chest at the emptiness that awaited him--but he could also feel his end sneaking closer like sunrise.

The Changeling was put off by being manhandled--yet again--but it did permit him a better angle. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth around his large fangs, biting down to keep from making noises that were, if possible, even more embarrassing. His eyes slid open, completely blurred and unfocused, as Angor's thrusting became uncoordinated and the hands on his waist tightened.

"Don't... don't you--" Strickler gasped, words broken by a low moan, "not until I'm ready!" He emphasized by smacking a fist into Angor's stomach.

The undead assassin stared down at Strickler as the infernal copula lit up, humming around Strickler's command. Angor Rot let out a howl as he felt a tugging at the base of his cock like a ring. His nearing climax ebbed back only enough to make him decidedly uncomfortable and frustrated. He snarled at Strickler but the response he had prepared was swallowed as the Changeling shifted and clenched around him.

Strickler laughed and re-doubled his efforts, concentrating now on himself and less on his partner. He began grinding down against Angor's cock, rutting like an animal and leaving a trail of slick in his wake. He heard a mewling noise eek it's way from between Angor's lips and he met glazed orange eyes. As he settled back down over Angor's cock he did not sink down as far, and his eyes widened.

"How long ... has it been, impure," Angor Rot managed, still annoyed at having his climax denied, "since you were with a proper troll?"

"T-taking into account the other night?" Strickler panted, smirking to match the assassin. "Decades."

Angor Rot quickly sat up, sliding his hands from Strickler's hips to his lower back. The Changeling reacted quickly enough and leaned forward into Angor's chest. The enacted something of a mates' embrace as Strickler's hands grasped at Angor's chest, and the undead troll kept hold of the Changeling from behind. Angor rolled his hips, rubbing the start of his knot against Strickler's entrance.

The Changeling groaned against the pressing of something much larger than Angor's cock. He tipped his head forward, knowing the undeniable call of transference. He sighed in bliss and Angor Rot quickly knocked their horns together, grinding gently and sending sparks into the air. Strickler could feel Angor's climax just pacing the bars, it throbbed low in his groin and he bared his teeth.

"A-all right." Strickler nodded pausing to stare at the roots along Angor's shoulder. He reached up and traced one with a claw gently, feeling the assassin shudder.

"All right, what?" Angor knitted his brow stones in confusion, eyes still closed as he attempted to keep the transference running.

Angor felt a deep, visceral need as Strickler pushed down and started to open to the knot. The assassin pulled his horns back and nodded vigorously. He slid his hands back to Strickler's hips and started to help push the Changeling down.

"No! No!" Strickler gasped, squirming. "Not like that!" 

"Aarrrggg..." Angor moaned. "Then how? This is not the time for riddles."

"Just, give me a moment." Strickler sighed and slowly pulled his feet under himself. He braced his hands on Angor Rot's shoulders and stood shakily, slick running down his legs, tendrils connecting him to Angor Rot. 

Angor left a hand on Strickler's side, almost tenderly, to assure the Changeling would not lose his footing. His heart pounded and his horns throbbed as he watched Strickler step back. The assassin could have sworn he saw a flush to the Changeling's cheeks as he moved to his knees just a few feet away, his back to Angor Rot.

Strickler took a slow breath, mind clouded enough to knock all embarrassment and shame from his mind except for the sinking suspicion he would feel them in spades tomorrow. He bent over gingerly, spreading his knees apart and leaning on his forearms, hunched over. He let his head hang for a moment before glancing over his shoulder.

"Well?"

Angor stared for a second after Strickler's voice died off. He moved disjointedly to his knees behind the Changeling, watching as Strickler's eyes cast glowing orbs onto the cement below them. He reached out and slid his hand along the curve of a bare green back. Angor Rot took his cock in hand, stroking the slick from their coupling down over his knot.

Strickler let his throbbing horns and aching groin drown out all other thought. Angor's hand riding up his back made him shudder and he clawed at the ground in anticipation. He felt the head of Angor's dick press into him and moaned deliciously as the emptiness their coupling left was re-filled. It was almost comfortable, almost welcome. 

Angor Rot heard Strickler gasp as he pushed harder, his knot not sliding in as easily as the rest of him. He slid his hand from resting between Strickler's shoulder blades to wrapping long fingers around the Changeling's throat. The moan which escaped was echoed by soft flesh relaxing and Angor pushed into the resistance. 

"Nyya-aaah!" Strickler cried out, balling his hands into fists. The fingers around his throat tightened and the Changeling's eyes rolled back into his head. They snapped back open immediately as Angor Rot shoved forward once more and settled his knot inside Strickler with an audible pop. It had been centuries since Strickler had felt something so large, something so... carnal.

Angor shuddered atop the Changeling, buried completely in tight warmth. He covered almost all of his partner from where he knelt over top him, chest to back. He lifted Strickler's head--hand still clasped around his throat--and ran his horns over backswept coils. 

"Aa--aaahhahnnnng!" Angor's free hand dug claws into cement as the transference took hold, filling him with the sensations of his partner. 

Strickler hissed and his back bowed under the fresh onslaught. He reached up quickly, desperately and grabbed Angor's horn, his fingers backlit by their transference. 

"N-now, Angor Rot." He whimpered, hips rolling against their joining. "P-please, now!"

Angor felt the tingle of an invisible hold release and with it came the trembling, blinding white of his orgasm. He rocked forward, canting his hips to jostle his knot within the Changeling. His lips brushed the back of Strickler's neck as he roared.

Strickler's head would have fallen forward, forehead to the cement, if not for the grip of Angor Rot along his throat. He felt hot stirrings impossibly deep within him as the knot throbbed and Angor Rot spilled his luminescence into the Changeling. The transference rolled the completion around and through him until he sent his own seed onto the cement with a gasp.

Angor Rot's eyes slowly closed, he could still see the dancing lights of the still running transference through his eyelids. He could practically feel Strickler breathing through their physical link, and something like a well needed calm through their mental one. He wondered, as his body felt heavy laying atop Strickler, what the Changeling might feel from him.

Strickler felt dizzy, intoxicated, his head was still but the image of the ground under him--his hand so close to Angor Rot's--swayed and shuddered. The transference lulled both trolls into a sort of trance to complete the coupling, to resist the urge to separate before everything was done and cause harm to one--or both--parties. 

Angor tilted his head to one side, almost nuzzling against Strickler's horns--trapped between Angor's own. He could remember sights and smells and... feelings. Desires, wants, and emotions he only knew wisps of in his soul-less state. He shifted as if to stand and both parties moaned. Angor Rot settled back down on his knees, huffing out a breath along Strickler's throat as he removed his hand.

The Changeling's head dipped down slowly, grating horns against horns though he caught himself before he slipped far enough to break the transference. He felt a strange kind of hollow in his core, like the source of it's warmth was gone but the heat was held within. Running on fumes, as it were. Beneath that he felt his dedication towards his Changeling kinsfolk double, a reminder that everything had always been, and would always be, for them.

"This... changes nothing." Angor Rot mumbled through the trance, sliding his hand towards Strickler's--towards the ring. "For this--you'll die."

"We shall see." Strickler replied, just as groggily. "You still have my word--once you... have ended the Trollhunter..."

"The ring will be mine."

"Yes."

Angor Rot rumbled in response, feeling a shudder through his core as his knot throbbed and slowly began to recede. He pushed himself up to his haunches and slowly, carefully, extracted himself from Strickler. Once more tendrils of slick followed him out, leaking down green thighs and glimmering in the dim light. 

Strickler hissed and slid his knees together at the removal. He heard Angor Rot stand behind him and he leaned to one hip, uncertain if he could stand just yet. He winced at the wet sensation between his legs and reached up to try and smooth back his hair. 

Angor shuffled his way towards their discarded clothing. The transference still rumbled it's echoes in his head, a warmth still clung to his bones, but he could not still. He could not be idle. He picked up his cloth and quickly retied it around his waist, over his shoulder. Once satisfied he picked up Strickler's cloak and reached for the kilt.

As the cloth was jostled the fuzzy charm rolled free from a shallow pocket. It tumbled across the dirt and bounced against the wall. Angor Rot narrowed his eyes and reached out for it.

"What... is this?" 

Strickler blinked clearing eyes as Angor Rot stood, holding the Changeling's clothing. In one large hand Strickler could see the charm. He smirked.

"A charm. It's intended to--"

"I know what it is!" Angor Rot roared, closing the distance between the trolls. He ignored Strickler's yelp. "How dare you!"

"H-how dare I?" Strickler shot back, moving shakily to his legs. He snatched his cloak from the taller troll. "You dare question my methods?"

"Once was not enough? Did you think you could earn my complacency? Earn my... servitude?" Angor shook the charm in Strickler's face.

"What are you talking about?" The Changeling tugged at his kilt, stumbling backwards as Angor Rot released it. "That charm is to aid my Changeling constituents in finding another Fetch."

"Don't lie to me, impure." Angor Rot snarled, lifting his hand. He squeezed the charm in his palm until it popped. "A cwningen swyn cariad--a lust charm!"

"A--A what!" Strickler quickly buckled his kilt, well aware he was only alive because he wore the ring, Angor Rot's entire demeanor seethed before him. "I assure you I had... no idea. I sent that fool into troll market for--"

"Get out." Angor Rot growled. "OUT! Before I find some way to slice your hand from you body and drink your blood!"

Strickler hesitated. He did not want Angor Rot to believe he had pulled a glamour over on him. He did not want to leave with the assassin believing he knew the Changeling's plans. He sneered and turned to limp down the tunnel. He winced as he heard Angor Rot roaring behind him, taking out his anger on the debris piled in the corner. 

As he climbed out into the sunlight a single thought spark through his mind like a pixie. He gasped and winced.

"Barbara." Their binding, the charm...


	16. safe

"Jim," Barbara asked quietly, her voice as gentle as the morning sun barely creeping through the blinds, "can I ask you a weird question?"

"Uh, sure, mom." Jim grinned, filling her glass with more orange juice.

"Do you--do you believe in ghosts?" 

"Ghosts?" Jim sat down across from his mother, frowning. "Like--dead spirits?"

"Well, yeah. Like--entities you can't see. Haunted places, that kind of thing."

"I mean," Jim chuckled, "I guess so." His mind wandered to the Forge, to his new... advisors. "Why... why do you ask?"

"No reason!" Barbara said quickly, practically shouting. She offered a wan smile at her confused son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIN
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
